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Red m\ 
manderings 



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Copyrighted 1912 

by 

'Thomas Francis Sheridan 



Red pi Uianderiiids 



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RED HILL WANDERINGS 




|OR many years now I have 
spent my summers and a 
goodly portion of each 
winter, that is, as much as I 
could steal from a busy 
law practice, at the old farm 
home at the foot of Red Hill, one of New 
Hampshire's lovely mountains not far from the 
shores of Lake Winnepesaukee, the beautiful, 
which interpreted by the Indians means "the 
Smile of the Great Spirit", and which indeed 
to all who know it seems rightly named. One 
could write chapters about this beautiful lake 
and the many other attractive waters of this 
part of New Hampshire, but "that is another 
story." 



D ED HILL stands alone, and it is to this 
•■■ ^ splendid isolation that it owes its principal 
charm, for at its pinnacle -as the natives call 



Wander- 
ing* 



Red the summit — it seemingly stands up in the 

J^J" , center of a huge natural amphitheater. In the 

early spring the mountain is ^rikingly beautiful 
with the multi-colored trees that cover its 
sides, the maples with their pleasing light 
greens, the hardier oaks of a darker green, the 
birches and beeches of still different shades; 
and, finally, the dark coniferous pines, growing 
in huge patches here and there clear to the 
summit of Old Piney Top, attract the attention 
of the lovers of nature. But the hill attains its 
full glory in the autumn, when the fro^ has tinted 
the deciduous trees. Then the hardy oaks — 
red and white— and the handsome maples 
show their autumn tints, from a light to a flam- 
ing red, from which the mountain takes its 
name, so that the whole top of the hill seems to 
be tinted a gorgeous, flaming scarlet. Then 
there are the glorious beauties of the woods in 
the autumn time — the wild afters, the gorgeous 
golden rod, and the fragile, delicate fringed 
gentian — September's Princess Charming. Yes, 
Mother Nature has done much for these hills. 



A ND then there are its many little mountain ^^ 
'^*" brooks that remind one of the Tyrol, *Jj" 
except for the speckled mountain trout that j 
hide in their pools, the feathery songsters that 
sing in the woods, and the many kinds of 
animals — large and small — that live and hide 
in its forests; all of which make a walk through 
these woods very interesting in summer and 
winter alike Numbers of times in the depths 
of winter, with several feet of snow on the 
ground, I have taken my gun and Beagles, 
more for companionship than from any desire 
to kill or maim these little people of the woods — 
for I have long since lo^ all the desire I ever 
had to kill any of God's creatures — and climbed 
over and through the many hills and valleys of 
the mountain. And particularly after a light fall 
of snow is it intere^ing, when the places near 
the brooks and water courses are like a page 
from Nature's book written over by all the living 
creatures that inhabit it, excepting Man. The 
tracks of the squirrel predominate, but you will 
see many foot-prints of the little ground squirrels, 



ings 



R«^ for they do not all hibernate or live in their 

, holes throughout the winter, as I was taught 
Wander- , i i* * .i 

when quite young to believe was the case. 

The runways of the larger rabbits are very 

plain, for it is the large white snow-shoe that 

we find hereabouts. Then the tracks of the 

deer ^and out daintily, and are easily tracked 

if one is seeking their hiding places with 

ulterior motives. 

A GAIN, we have with us — and I have seen 
*^^ on these walks many birds that stay with 
us the winter through, as well as the occasional 
winter visitors — the Juncos, in flocks usually, the 
prettier Snow Bunting in smaller numbers, the 
Canadian, as well as its larger brother the Blue 
Jay, and the con^ant and ^urdy Pheasants. I 
remember one walk particularly: It was on a 
cold December day in nineteen-nine that I saw 
a number of birds, in fad a large flock containing 
fifty or more of different species, among which 
were some Goldfinches with their somber 
winter coats, and some Pine Siskins in the same 



Hill 

Wander. 

ings. 



flock. The same morning of this walk I saw a ^f^ 
few Red Crossbills, who are merely visitors 
during severe winters. At other times I have 
noticed Chicadees, which stay with us all the 
winter, the red-breasted Nuthatch,Woodpeckers 
and occasionally a few Kinglets. 

I 'HEN at times I have wandered up the 
•*" mountain side to some sheltered spot, with- 
out any companion save walking-stick and pipe, 
and sat down on a convenient log to re^ and 
smoke, and at times like these have wondered 
why, why so much beauty was spent by the 
Maker of it all — call Him Providence if you 
will — in these wonderfully beautiful woods that 
are so attractive at all times, and particularly in 
winter, and apparently with no motive or at- 
traction for the people who live on His foot- 
stool. For one who sees, loves, and analyzes 
these things, cannot help feeling that all of this 
is not the result of mere chance. It cannot be; it 
mu^ be the design or work of some wonderful 
infinite Being. And a feeling of pity arises 



R«^ in the brea^ for the millions of men that come 

^^ and stay on this cru^ of Mother Earth for a 

inffs ^^^ ^^^^^ years, and then go without ever 

knowing anything of it all, or why; and this 
applies not only to the well-to-do, but to the 
poor; as well to the man who lives in the 
mid^ of it all and yet never sees it as to the 
city man; and to the preacher as well as to the 
layman — he knoweth not God's works, nothing 
but of the hives. 

D UT I started to sing of Red Hill, and I have 
•■-^ wandered. It has many pleasant paths 
leading to its pinnacle through thick pine forces, 
heavy growths of oak and birch, through open 
places and by laughing little brooks. It seems 
as if the brooks and waters of this part of the 
world are never rough and boisterous, but al- 
ways laughing. Bearcamp Water, the Swift and 
Cold Rivers always seem so cheerful that it is a 
good tonic to spend a day wading through them, 
casting flies in their many pools as an excuse 
for the wadings and wanderings. 



10 



ings. 



r5UT returning to the mountain: the path to ^^^ 
^ the saddle, up through the old Watson and ^" 
Moulton woods is the mo^ intere^ing, and after 
you have reached your fir^ re^ng place, the old 
Pennyman Farm, that looks so peaceful in its 
abandoned ^ate, and have partaken of the water 
from its refreshing spring, you enter the final path 
that leads to the pinnacle, and as you near the 
top you see huge ant hills of the mound build- 
ing ants (Formica exsectoides), that fill you with 
admiration for the energy and tremendous acflivities 
that these wonderful little inseds display. These 
ant hills are sometimes fully three feet high and 
from eight to ten feet in diameter, and there 
mu^ be hundreds of thousands of ants working 
incessantly in each of them. 

>\ T la^ we reach and come out on the 
^ ^ bare granite pinnacle of the hill. The 
view that greets you is incomparable, spread 
all around you as is seen nowhere else in this 
country. Edward Everett wrote of it many 
years ago as the "mo^ beautiful view in the 



Hill 
Wander- 
ings 



Red world." It takes some time and many trips to 

the summit to see and appreciate it all. At 
fir^ without any aid other than that which God 
gave us, and then with field glasses, one begins 
to see, underhand, and appreciate. To the 
ea^ of us are our nearer neighbors — the green 
Ossipee mountains — with Red Hill River and 
ponds in between. To the north is the beauti- 
ful Sandwich Range, at the extreme right of 
which is old Chocorua with its clear-cut profile, 
its bald summit, and its intere^ing legend: It is 
the fir^ to attradl, and the la^ to linger in our 
memory. It is surely a beautiful mountain, ju^ 
such as, during my boyhood days, I fancied a 
mountain should be. Then comes old Toadback, 
as Mt. Paugus is usually called hereabouts, and 
well called. Next is Passaconway; then White 
Face, the higher as well as larger mountain in 
this range; then Tripyramid; Black Mountain; 
and, finally. Old Israel, the weather prophet for 
the farmer folks hereabouts, who say that when 
he puts on his cap he never takes it off until it 
rains, a prophecy that I have often observed as 



12 



Hill 

Wander- 

ings. 



true. On a good day the peak of Mt. Wash- R«^ 
ington may be seen peeping just over the left 
shoulder of Whiteface, as well as other peaks 
of the Presidential Range. To the northwe^ 
is seen the Franconia Range, to the south the 
Belknaps, and away to the southwest the dim 
outline of pretty Mt. Monadnock. 

IDUT the principal beauty, and the one that 
^^ you will turn to again and again, is the 
view of the many lakes that are scattered all 
around and away below you. Lake Winne- 
pesaukee, with an island for every day in the 
year and covering a va^ area, is particularly 
beautiful on a sunny day. Then to the right 
of it, Squam Lake appears set like a jewel be- 
tween the hills, and the other lesser, but very 
pretty and numerous small lakes add witchery 
to the scene. And as your eyes begin to grasp 
it all, you will notice the many pretty villages, 
with their little white houses always peeping 
through the deep greens of their wonderful 
shade trees, nestling here and there all over the 



13 



ing« 



^«<* landscape, each having its little white church 

* with its spire pointing heavenward. Sandwich, 

at the foot of the valley near the Sandwich 
range, is the most picturesquely situated and is 
at the north of us. Then to the west on the 
shores of Squam Lake is Holdemess and 
Ashland; to the southwest Center Harbor, 
Meredith, and TTie Weirs; and over to the 
south — all on the shores of Lake Winnepesau- 
kee — is Melvin Village and Wolfeboro, while 
here and there on the slopes of the many hills 
are pretty hamlets picturesquely situated, giving 
added charm to the scene. 

/^N a clear autumn day, with the kindly 
^^ aid of a field glass, the Green Mountains 
are seen and here and there a glimpse of the 
river that divides the two States, though it 
appears as simply a little spot or pool of water. 
Some of those who live here say that on aa 
unusually clear day Old Ocean may be seen, 
but I have looked for it many limes in vain. 
All of this seems very old with every recuning 



14 



August 1912. 

15 



ings. 



visit, yet to me it is ever new, a« some land- ^^^ 
mark strikes the eye for the firft time, and 1 am JJl , 
always loath to enter the downward path again 
and leave the scene behind; but there is com- 
fort in the thought that to-morrow, next month, 
next year it may be, it will all be there to 
greet me on my return, and be as it was when 
I left it last. 

— Thomas Francis Sheridan. 



DtC 



CMin-HUl Prtndnr Co.. Chicago. 



